


Style

by absolutelyCancerous (cal1brations)



Series: Misfit Carnival (AU) [7]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 19:56:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cal1brations/pseuds/absolutelyCancerous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She cuts all her hair off just days after they join the circus, hours before their first real performance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Style

 

She cuts all her hair off just days after they join the circus, hours before their first real performance.

You find her sitting on a small footstool, in front of the only mirror that your wagon actually has (mostly for Aqua’s primping purposes—you don’t take part in such), one of her trusty knives in one hand, a handful of blue hair in her other. She catches your face in the reflection, and actually  _smiles_ at you, and you hear the “ _schk!_ ” before you ever even get to ask her  _why_.

You can really only watch her, then, since you can’t exactly stop her now. Long, blue hair, hair that used to tickle the top of her waist, now falls to the floor in clumps, pooling around her almost elegantly. She cuts it up a little past her shoulders, so that it flares just a tad at the bottom of her neck. It’s a little choppy, but yours is probably no better, a mop of brown slicked back as best you can so it doesn’t get in your face. You still alert her, though, leaning over behind her to run your fingers against the now-short tips of her hair, against the back of her neck that makes her shiver.

“It’s a little bit uneven,” you murmur, and it’s not meant to be  _mean_ , and , thankfully, Aqua doesn’t take it that way. Instead, she lowers her shoulders, looks at you with sly eyes and a teasing smile, a perfect curve of pink lips that makes your insides sing.

“Where?”

“The left side’s just a little too long.”

She brushes the measured bit out, switches out her knife for a pair of scissors on the floor by her foot, and snip snip snips away, smoothing down her new bob when she’s finished to make sure it’s completely fixed and neat. And it looks  _nice_ ; smooth, creamy shoulders are exposed now, and it makes her neck look a little longer, much more tantalizing than before.

She looks at you in the mirror, her smile is gone, and she inquires a soft, “Do I look alright?”

You remember all the times you’d picked on her as a boy, remembered teasing her when she wore her hair in a braid, and when you’d first noticed the voluptuous curves coming in. When she followed you around for fun, companionship and adventure, with wonder in large, impossibly blue eyes that were innocent enough to haunt. Looking at her in the mirror now, she reminds you of the Aqua you knew back home, long ago, and it’s enough to make you smile, make you hug her from behind and rest your chin atop her delicate head.

“Did you ever  _not_?”

“I’m serious, Terra.”

“So am I.”

She plays with her hair once more, unsure of the style. “It doesn’t look like a boy, right?”

“It looks like you.”

“Maybe I should have left it longer…”

“I think it’s fine.” You punctuate with a chaste kiss to the top of her head. “Just fine.”

She smiles, and you  _almost_  think it’s because of you and your kind gesture. But, she only pushes her hanging bangs to the left of her face, tucks them behind her ear and looks at her reflection fondly. There’s a stubborn bit of her bangs that doesn’t stay quite with the other section, but when she tries to hide it away, you stop her with a hand.

“I like it like this,” you inform her, and your heart stutters when you catch her blush. “It’s… becoming.”

“You’re not my  _father_ ,” she snorts at you, and her smile makes you grin with her, drum your fingers against her sides playfully.

“Alright.” You grin, press your lips right up against the small shell of her ear, an action that makes her giggle and squirm ticklishly. You give her ear a quick kiss, against her hair, before using gentle fingers to tuck blue locks back, so you can kiss her a little more lasciviously there, which stops her giggling and makes her breath catch in  stunned anticipation.

“If you want the truth, I’d say it looks absolutely  _stunning_. Daring. Bold—“

“Perfect match, then, hmm?”

You hum against her with a smile, and find that kissing Aqua’s neck is one of the most natural things in the world to you, soothing and easy and  _fun_. She laughs after a bit, not at you, but she pushes your face away teasingly, wiping at her neck with a face red enough to stop traffic and a bright, darling smile that reaches from ear to adorable, kiss-bearing ear.

“I have to put my make-up on,” she explains quickly, like she doesn’t want you to think that she was uncomfortable.

That, maybe, she doesn’t mind doing  _those_  types of things (simply kissing, Terra,  _kissing_!) with you.

Nonetheless, you smile, tell her again that her hair looks very nice (and it does), because girls really do enjoy compliments, and you enjoy giving them if it makes Aqua smile so pretty, and let her be in favor of getting dressed yourself.

After the show tonight, you’ll  _definitely_  investigate, to see what she really meant.


End file.
